I'm so excited!! The Elsker/Ære crossover novella is here! If you've been hoping to see Gunnar Andersson and his big brother Henrik together, well . . . I hope this story makes you smile. :) Mange takk for sharing the Norse god love with me. I hope you enjoy seeing the two crews together for the very first time!
Inga Andersson just can’t catch a break. She’s supposed to be enjoying a ski week in beautiful Åre, Sweden, with her immortal-assassin husband. Instead, she and Gunnar are trapped inside a bizarre scavenger hunt, unraveling an incomprehensible riddle at the bequest of a mysterious being known only as The One. And if Inga and Gunnar don’t decipher the puzzle and deliver a mythological relic to a New Orleans graveyard within three days, they’ll be ejected from the Norse pantheon, stripped of their immortality, and cast as the solitary line of defense against the onslaught of frost giants and Helbeasts ready to bring about Midgard’s fall. What started as a party game has become a lethal challenge with irreparable consequences, not only for Inga, but for the god she loves . . . and the realm she adores.
Let the hunt begin.
The Asgardians is a standalone crossover novella set within both the Elsker and Ære Universe. It features The Elsker Saga’s Gunnar & Inga, AND The Ære Saga’s Henrik & Brynn!
The minute we were done, Gunnar pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get a move on. If the rumors surrounding Draupnir are true, now that this ring is exposed it’ll act like a beacon. A dark-soul homing beacon. And we only need one ice heir to activate this thing, so we’d better roll before—”
“Gunnar?” I tucked Johann’s necklace into my shirt as a breeze kicked in.
“Ja?” He tilted his head. “You cold, babe?”
“Not exactly.” I glanced up at the sky. Now the dull grey clouds dumped thick snowflakes, which whirled in slow circles as the wind increased. My intuition prickled at the same time as the lead balloon dropped deeper in my gut. “The heir is here.”
Gunnar narrowed his eyes. “Is that so?”
Brynn drew her dagger and dropped to a fighting stance. “Isbjørn at twelve o’clock.”
“Isbjørn? As in, the ice bears of Jotunheim? The only reason they’d have for coming to Midgard would be to protect Ismord . . .” The word fell flat as Henrik followed Brynn’s eye line. Sure enough, two massive white bears with thick red claws stalked beside an enormous figure. He wore a heavy iron helmet over his shoulder-length black hair, and his chest plate bore the insignia of the jotun crown.
Finally. Let me at him.
We were in the presence of frost giant royalty—the very creature I’d wanted to take down for as long as I could remember. And if the growls of the isbjørn were any indication, his guard bears weren’t about to facilitate an introduction. They looked vicious, feral, like they’d stop at nothing to protect their charge.